A little kid

As you're heading off to perpetrate some Trick or Treating, a little kid runs up to you. "Grandpa?"

"...What?"

"I knew it! You are the ghost of my dead Grandpa! He used to say "...What?" just like that! He always had a bedsheet over his head, too. Mommy never told me why. What's it like to be a ghost, Grandpa?"

"It's, uh... it's okay, I guess."

"Are you lonely? Grandma says she'll see you soon!"

"Will she? Well, that's nice. Oh wait, I mean..."

"Wait here one sec, I'll get your bedtime medicine for you!" The kid runs off, and comes back a minute later with possibly the biggest snifter of brandy you've ever seen. Grandpa liked his booze, it seems. "Okay, I gotta go Trick or Treats now!" the kid says. "Could you put the sheet back on the clothesline when you're done with it? Mom probably won't like it if you take it with you to Hey Deez."

The kid waves and runs off, and you hang the sheet on a nearby washline, a little weirded out.